


Let Me Help

by fightableomo



Series: Little Witcher [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Diapers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, NSFW, Non-Sexual Age Play, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22948291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightableomo/pseuds/fightableomo
Summary: The beginnings of little Geralt and caregiver JaskierPlease read and understand all the tags. This is a Kink Fic. Don't like, don't read.Thanks to @ratgrandpa2000 for help beta-ing
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Little Witcher [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641898
Comments: 9
Kudos: 221
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette, GoodShit





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there is some implied sexual content in here. None of it happens when Geralt is feeling little. I believe that adults can consent to a lot of situation other than sexual, and intimacy doesn't have to be sexual. you can have varying relationships with people too. anyway, just know, i don't really write sexual ageplay, but geralt, canonically has sex. so. also, i tried to stay in a geralt pov, but i myself am a cg, so idk much about what littlespace or even just subspace is like 
> 
> anyway, here is the first part of their ageplay regression.

Geralt was fine. And he’d maintain that. He knew how to take care of himself, he was used to being alone, and frankly, being alone made it easier for him to take care of himself. Namely because he kept a tight schedule and travel companions threw off his schedule. 

Jaskier was by far the worst--or rather best--at throwing off his schedule. The bard wouldn’t let him run off to piss if he didn’t feel safe alone in the woods, and when they were hiking a lot, he’d push water or other drinks onto him, insisting he rehydrate les his skin clog up. And in cities, he’d get far too distracted and hold on to Geralt during what was supposed to be a scheduled potty break. 

The increased liquids and unsteady schedule quickly ruined Geralt’s reputation as well as his pants. Thankfully, his dark pants were good at disguising the sloppy wet streaks that traveled down his legs. But they did little to disguise the smell or the growing muddy puddle beneath him. 

What made the impending shame worse, was he had a hard time telling when he was wet, not just if he was currently wetting himself. The change in temperature and wetness in his groin was hard for him to detect. It was only when it cooled and started itching that he would realize his pants were wet, and had been. 

Jaskier, however, was a lot better at telling when the Witcher had pissed himself. 

The first time he had been caught by Jaskier with potty pants, wass when the sun flashed off his crotch, glistening with wetness, and the admn observant bard spoke up. “Geralt, is that blood or piss?” 

He stepped closer without waiting for an answer and sniffed, “It’s piss! Did you wet your pants?” His tone was hard to place, both incredulous and mocking with just enough concern to offset it. 

Geralt just glared at him, not having much clever to say, “Don’t ask stupid questions.” 

Every single time after that, whenever Jaskier would notice a glint of wetness on his pants, or even on the fabric around his tummy, he would assume it was piss. He was right, and there were usually dribbles wetting the dirt and dust of the road to prove it. 

It was one night that they were setting up camp and Geralt went to grab a new pair of britches that Jaskier really said nothing more than alerting him that he was wet. 

“You’re having a lot of accidents, as of late.” 

Geralt grunted, “Thanks to you.” 

“What do you mean? We can take as many breaks as you want, I literally don’t care if we have to stop all the time for your small bladder. Geeze.” 

“No, it’s different. I. Keep a schedule, and you mess that schedule up.” He could feel some heat rising in his cheeks, but he ignored it and started to strip.

“I still hardly see how this is my fault. I’m sorry I messed up your schedule, I guess. But like, five minutes between your schedule and when I can stop shouldn’t matter. Just be more proactive when you need to pee.” 

That statement turned something in him sour, or at least more so than he already was. “I can’t tell. It’s not that easy.” 

And just like that, his silly little side effect was in the open. It wass stupid. He was stupid. He couldn't even tell when he needed to pee like a normal person. It wasn’t his fault, but it all was still so stupid. 

He finished getting dressed and turned to Jaskier, intent on continuing their evening routine of setting up camp. 

Jaskier had other ideas. He sat with his mouth in a little ‘o’ as realization washed over him. “Oh, it’s medical. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Do you need a healer? We should go see a healer about this.” 

Flustered, Geralt turned away harshly, irritation plain in his voice. “No. Drop it. I’ll take care of it on my own.” 

And to his credit, he did take care of it. He drank a bit less--not enough to get dehydrated--and took more frequent breaks. Jaskier actually helped with that, constantly asking if he ‘needed to potty.’ or telling him ‘it’s tinkle time.’ 

Ridiculous, but not. Unwanted. 

He continued with his hypervigilant potty breaks until they got to the next town. Jaskier resolved to stay for a while to get work and take care of other affairs, and Jaskier would regather supplies, get his own work or travel, and they might meet up eventually.

They had a habit of getting back together. 

Before Geralt left town, he made sure to restock on food. He also bought fabric. A length of muslin that would do well as a diaper for someone his size. It was much easier to grapple with his pride without Jaskier there as a witness. 

Geralt was back on his own schedule, and as such, had no more accidents. Still, as he made bed for the night, he pulled out the muslin, and after only a moment of hesitation, began folding it. 

He hadn’t really been with children before, and he hadn’t needed to diaper anyone in his life, up until this point. Still, he had a rough idea of how everything should go. 

He folded the muslin in fourths and went from there. In the end, he managed to get himself padded up okay. It wasn’t overly tight, or very even. But he pulled up his pants over the nappy and let a hint of a smile grace his face. 

It felt secure. A feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. If he was being honest, he put off going to sleep for a while to just enjoy the padding secured around his bum and groin. 

Still, he managed to fall asleep comfortably. 

The next two weeks were spent with him intermittently wearing diapers while he was alone. He never really used the padding around his hips as he was back on his schedule. 

Still, he liked wearing them at night. They made sure he wouldn’t piss himself in his sleep--something not unheard of, even before Jaskier--and the senses of comfort and security was appealing. 

He spent many a night sitting in the nappy, one hand on the front of his pants to feel it in more than one way. He tread lightly into the feelings he was having. Afterall, he was alone in the woods, he could start to organize and compartmentalize his feelings. 

More than anything, the diaper made him feel like a little kid. But not in a humiliated way, more in a cared for, carefree way. 

And once he accepted that infantile part of him, he explored what he wanted with that part of himself. 

He wanted someone to hold him, to pat his padded bum to remind him how little he was, he wanted to be bathed gently and just treated sweetly with no expectation of returning the favor at the moment.

Yes. He wanted all of that, but chances were he wouldn’t act on it. Even if it wasn’t a sexual intimacy, it was an intimacy he’d have a hard time requesting. Some parts of it, maybe, but being so small and vulnerable was something he’d keep for himself, at least for now. 

Outside of that, he was still an adult. A fully grown man, and a fairly large one at that. He could beat anyone’s ass, so who cared if he didn’t hate having to wear diapers. 

A little over two weeks later, Jaskier caught up with him in another city. The two rented a room in an inn, and as soon as the door shut, the words fell out. 

“Geralt of Rivia, what are you wearing?” Jaskier put a hand on his hip, again displaying an off combination of humour and concern about something he had noticed. His blue eyes were clearly fixed on his groin. 

Geralt glanced down. Sure, he was wearing the cloth nappy underneath his black trousers in anticipation of Jaskier fucking up his schedule, but he didn’t think it looked too obvious. There were no harsh lines or crinkle associated with modern diapers. Just a bit more mass. 

“Deer skin pants? Am I not fashionable enough for you?” He tried to shrug off the comment and went to the basin to fill it and wash his face. 

Jaskier followed, “No, there’s something in your pants. I spend long enough staring at your ass, I should know.” 

“Maybe if you stopped staring at my ass and did your job, you wouldn’t need to book a shared room with me.” 

He rolled his eyes, “We both know this is for you.”

The bard walked over to where Geralt stood, and without asking, pulled down his pants, putting the muslin padding on display. 

He smiled, “I knew it.” He pat his bum, immediately sending a shock of bright red to his cheeks.

Jasksier continued, “You did pretty good on your own, but you can do better. I can show you if you want.” 

Geralt prickled a little bit. “No. Drop it.” He was already reaching to undo the pins that held the fabric to his hips. 

“Aw come on, don’t get upset. I’m just trying to help. I think it’s rather proactive of you considering your trouble going potty.” 

“Shut up. I’m still a grown ass man, and I could still beat your ass.” He threw the dry muslin fabric at him. 

Jaskier let the fabric hit the floor, “All right, all right. I’ll drop it.” 

Geralt huffed, but was at least glad that the subject was dropped. He fixed his pants and went back to washing his face.

The night went on without a mishap after that, and Geralt felt fully adult. The two ended up having intercourse to sate Geralt’s libido. 

The next morning as they packed up, Geralt pointedly ignored the muslin on the floor. 

Jaskier picked it up quietly and they went to get breakfast. And again, Jaskier made his annoying habit of ordering for other people known. He said that he was just trying to keep Geralt healthy by limiting his ale consumption in the morning, but it still bugged the man and he’d correct the order. 

Usually. This morning, he decided to let it go and just let Jaskier choose for him. 

And then they traveled. And Geralt stayed on his schedule, and the conversation of diapers and wet pants disappeared. 

Even without the diapers, however, Geralt felt himself yearn for comfort and tiptoe into a smaller mindset when he allowed himself to. 

The next time they found themselves in town, they rented a room and settled in for a day or two. 

Jaskier was sat at the desk, working on some sewing and embroidery project that he had picked up for their travels. 

Geralt walked over to him and got on his knees. Crossing his arms, he placed them on Jaskier’s and rested his chin on his forearms, looking up at the bard. 

Jaskier smiled down at him. He set down the sewing and brought a hand to run through his hair, “On your knees already? If you want to suck me off, you just have to ask.” 

Geralt let himself enjoy the hand in his hair for a second, “No, I have something else to ask.” 

“Ask away, pretty. You have my attention. You know I’m open.” 

It took a moment longer for Geralt to answer again, this time speaking slower and more deliberate, “... Will..you wash my hair?” 

“Ah, finally coming around to my hair care? Tired of split ends, I bet.” He moved his nimble hands from his scalp to inspect the ends of his hair. “Of course I’ll wash your hair. Let’s get a bath drawn.” 

It took a bit, but sure enough, Jaskier washed his hair, gentle but toughened fingers working soap into his white hair, rinsing it of the dull colors it picked up.

Once he finished with the hair, Jaskier spoke, “While we’re here, do you want me to help wash you?” His voice has fallen a bit softer than it had been previously. 

Geralt nodded, “Yes, please.” 

Mirroring the nod, Jaskier set out scrubbing Geralt, with the man moving and helping when requested. The whole ordeal was rather platonic, even as the sudsy cloth went over his groin, there was no lingering or intent in Jaskier’s touch. 

Once he was out and dried, Geralt put on his night shirt. He rarely slept in anything other than his clothes or in a state of undress. But, he did have a night shirt for evenings like this. 

Jaskier went about his own nightly routine, occasionally glancing to the quiet man. After a while, he hummed, catching his attention, “Do you want me to do your hair too? It could use a good combing.” 

Again, it took a moment, but Geralt nodded. 

Jaskier sat on the bed with Geralt sat, legs folded on the ground between his knees. 

Once again, the loving fingers of Jaskier were in his hair, and Geralt savoured the feeling. In the end, half of his hair was braided into a small plait and the rest was brushed out. 

As the bard worked on his hair, he spoke. “Do you still want to share a bed, even if I didn’t get to fuck you?” 

The larger one closed his eyes and hummed, “How polite…” 

“I’m always polite. I’m also a bit of a cuddler, so if you don’t want sex or to be touched, we can take seperate beds.” 

“I didn’t say I was planning on sleeping separately.” 

“You didn’t say you would share either. I’m just making sure that you’re comfortable. Which do you prefer?” 

“Hmm. You choose.” 

Jaskier was the one to be silent for a second, clearly not used to being allowed to make decisions for Geralt. “If I’m not getting to lie with you, we can at least cuddle together.”

He nodded. 

A short while later, they got into bed. Geralt did what he always did and lay flat on his back as Jaskier curled up by him, putting his head on his shoulder and upper arm. This time, though, he frowned at Geralt. 

“Hey, pretty. Roll onto your side.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m trying to get comfortable. Just do it.” 

He rolled his eyes a little bit, but rolled over. Immediately, Jaskier’s arms were wrapped around him, or at least one was, draped around his waist with the palm of his hand on his chest. His other hand was propping Jaskier’s head so that it could more easily rest cheek to cheek with Geralt’s. 

Jaskier smiled softly and turned his head to press a kiss to his cheek, “How is this the first time we’ve spooned? You’re not very cuddly, but still, I do this with everyone I sleep with. You don’t need to have sex to be intimate and comfortable.” 

Geralt grunted in response. He had nothing else to add, but Jaskier was right. The arm draped around him and the secure presence on his back was comfortable. Even comforting. 

The two fell silent, and in the darkness they drifted off. 

Halfway through the night, Geralt woke up. He was used to this, and his body knew it. He usually took this as a moment to go potty and check his surroundings for danger. But, he felt safe. Jaskier was still holding him, and he could feel his heartbeat and his chest inflate and deflate with his steady breath. 

Geralt let out a satisfied sigh and let himself drift back to sleep without getting up. 

That, ultimately, would be his undoing. Normally, he didn’t wet the bed. His body slowed the production of urine as he slept, and he’d get up and pee most nights. Wet sheets still weren’t unheard of. 

Especially not now. 

In the embrace of the bard, Geralt slept peacefully. Though his bladder stretched, and begged for release to an uncaring nervous system. In the soft morning hours, it committed a repeating act of rebellion and let go. 

Piss trickled out of him, slowly at first but it gained speed as the exhausted muscles relaxed and pushed out every drop of urine. It started with just wetting his night shirt, just eeping up the fabric to his lower tummy and down his hip as he laid on his side. The puddle in the sheets grew, eventually encompassing most of his side and bleeding under him. 

As Geralt continued to pee, the puddle bled more and more, reaching Jaskier, and lapping at his night shirt as well. 

But, his bladder emptied, and the night was still once again. 

The next morning, Jaskier woke up feeling cold and wet. And while he might be inclined to sleep longer than normal, but the sensation of clammy, frankly itchy sheets woke him up. 

He got out of bed to investigate. Clearly, it was piss--if the smell was anything to go by. And it seemed to be centered around Geralt. 

He went around the bed to wake the man up, but he was already up. He had fallen back on his instincts of just staring quietly, looking pensive as he did most mornings. 

Jaskier sighed, “You’re awake. Why didn’t get up? You should pee when you wake up.” 

“I know.” Geralt’s voice came out a bit softer than expected. “It happened in the middle of the night… I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“Well, I’m awake now.” He let out another huff, “Come on, let’s clean up.” He grabbed Geralt by the wrist and dragged him up out of his puddle. It was clear that the piss originated from him, as a large wet stain traveled up most the front and side of his night shirt. 

Without even asking, Jaskier stepped into helping Geralt undress, wiped him off with a wetted cloth, and got him dressed again as he mirrored the process on himself, “There, all better.” 

Geralt nodded in agreement; a small gesture of appreciation. 

He didn’t speak yet, but Jaskier continued, “You know, if this turns into a repeated problem, you’re wearing diapers again. I’m not waking up in a wet bed more than once.” 

Geralt grunted in recognition, “Noted.” 

Jaskier frowned at that, he seemed rather demure instead of argumentative. He took a step back, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.”

“Aw come on. Did you wet the bed as a kid? Maybe stress is making it come back.” 

“If I did wet the bed as a child, it would have been quickly beaten out of me.” 

Jaskier’s brows shot up in surprise, “That’s awful. I had no idea.” 

“I doubt that. Everyone knows witchers start young, and you can hardly imagine it as a loving environment. Training is cruel and harsh.” 

“Geralt…” He drew closer, and when he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around his midsection from behind, “You didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry you had to go through with that.” 

Instead of pulling away, like Jaskier expected, he twisted in his arms until they were facing each other. He wrapped his awn arms around the bard and dropped himself a bit to bury his face in Jaskier’s shoulder. 

Feeling safe in those arms, he muttered, “Sometimes I wish I could be young again, and redo it all.” 

Jaskier started to rub his back, “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“...Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a little witcher discord if you're interessted in joining: https://discord.gg/wCKxv97
> 
> also, shout outs to my beta reader. lmk if you want to be tagged

The bedwetting stopped. Well, stopped implied that it was a pattern of behaviour. It seemed to be a one off occurrence, and Jaskier wanted to keep it that way. Afterall, he could only wake up in a pool of urine once, maybe twice if it was for Geralt.

But, the witcher had already used one of his freebies, so Jaskier focused more on preventative measures than anything else. 

Everytime they made camp or came to an inn, he spoke the same reminders, “Go pee before we go to bed. Don’t worry about waking me up, just get out of bed if you need to go potty.” 

And it worked. 

Well, it might not have been strictly necessary in the first place, considering it was just a one time thing. Still, he’d rather be overbearing than covered in pee. 

So, the two continued to travel together, Jaskier adding verses and spreading his song as well as picking up other gigs. He also had his sewing projects.

Geralt had his own projects. Namely traveling and finding monsters to kill and people willing to pay him to do so. 

It worked out as it usually did for him. 

Three weeks in, however, he had his teeth broken in. Jaskier didn’t notice for a while. 

No, they followed the usual routine of getting Geralt bathed and his hair brushed out and braided by Jaskier. Then dressed in a nightshirt and layed down on the bed and cuddled. In a moment, Geralt would silently gauge whether or not it’d be an active night or if they’d fall asleep quietly. 

Never once in that process did Geralt speak or show off his teeth.

When he gave no indication to what he had decided, Jaskier spoke up. “What’s the plan for tonight, love?” 

Geralt subconsciously chewed on his lip before speaking. “Nothing.” 

There was a slight whistle in his ‘th’, and just that change in inflection drew Jaskier’s attention. He sat up. 

“Why do you sound like that?” 

Geralt averted his gaze, running over what he could and could not say to hide his new lisp. “Like what?” He managed the ‘l’ sound by using his hard palate rather than his missing teeth. Still, the phonym was off. 

“Like that. You’re not speaking normal.” 

“I am. Fuck off.” 

Jaskier frowned, and watched Geralt’s mouth as he retorted. Although it was hard to see, he could swear he saw a space with no teeth. “No, I swear you are. Open your mouth.” 

Geralt tensed up, “Why?” 

“Just do it.” He knew Geralt wouldn’t, so, he reached up a hand and hooked his thumb in Geralt’s lip. 

Almost as if on cue, the man bit at the intruding digit. He had a tendency to get nippy whenever he was overstimulated or otherwise irritated. Usually it was an annoyance to Jaskier, but this time it confirmed his suspicion. 

As he was bit, his thumb felt the gap in the rows of teeth. It seemed like three of his front teeth had been knocked out. 

Jaskier pulled his hand away, “It’s not very nice to bite, Geralt.” 

He received a glare back, “It’s not nice to thtick your hand where it doethn’t belong.”

And there it was. All the consonants he was trying to avoid, announcing his lisp to the world. All his ‘s’ came out as that whistling ‘th’ and the ‘r’s and ‘l’s had more of a ‘w’ sound to them. 

He was still understandable. But his speech was that much cuter as he now sounded like a toddler, just grasping at language. 

Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re adorable. A big strong witcher struggling to speak like a big kid.” 

Geralt scowled, “Shut up.” 

The bard didn’t shut up. He instead reached out again to lift Geralt’s lip to see which teeth he was missing. He had a guess, and that guess was confirmed. “Really the worst teeth to lose. We can look into getting you some fake teeth, I can’t imagine you want to talk like a sweet little boy forever.” 

He swatted away his hand as he inspected his mouth, “They’ll grow back.” 

Jaskier’s brows shot up, “Really?”

“It taketh about a week. Now leave my mouth alone.” 

“I guess that makes sense. I wondered why it took so long for you to lose a tooth.” 

Geralt grunted in response and rolled onto his side.

“Oh come on, don’t be so upset. I’m sorry for teasing, but it is cute. You’re adorable, Geralt, and now the world gets to see it whenever you speak.” 

Keeping his mouth stubbornly shut, he glared again at the bard, keeping the eye contact up until Jaskier gave up on trying to get a reaction from him and laid back down. 

He wrapped an arm around Geralt and moved his hair, allowing him access to kiss the back of his neck. “I really do think you’re adorable, that part isn't teasing. Sleep well, little one.” 

He fell silent at that point and the two drifted off. 

As Geralt fell asleep, he couldn’t help but let Jaskier’s words float around his head. That familiar smallish feeling was back, even if he wasn’t wearing the diapers that usually prompted it. 

While he was falling into that vulnerable headspace, he analyzed why he was feeling that way and concluded that it was Jaskier’s fault. He called him cute and sweet and ‘big and strong’ in the voice that clearly meant he was anything but.

Yes. It was Jaskier’s fault he felt this way. And by extension, it was Jaskier’s fault when he wet the bed. 

Lost in the cloudy feeling of being little, his body neglected to wake him up. Perhaps he felt too small to do anything even if he were awake, or maybe Jaskier just made him feel safe enough to not to be alert. 

Eitherway, he slept through the night. His bladder, however, did not. In the early morning, his bladder let go, once again soaking his nightshirt and the sheets. As he stayed on his side, urine soaked him from his thighs to his midsection. And again, the puddle traveled under to get Jaskier too. 

The next morning, Geralt was the first to wake as he often was. He could smell and feel what he had done immediately. 

“Shit,” he lisped out. 

Normally, he didn’t like disturbing his sleep partners and only left bed if there was a certainty he wouldn’t wake him. But now, even knowing Jaskier was already on his way awake, he stood up out of bed quickly. 

Jaskier was jostled quite a bit and woke up, a lot more bleary than Geralt. It took him a moment, but he mirrored Geralt’s sentiment. “Shit. Ger, I thought we fixed this.” He dragged himself out of bed and immediately started stripped to get any irritating urine off of him. 

He didn’t answer. What was there to say? 

His silence was accepted by the bard, who just sighed and went to wet a cloth to wipe himself and Geralt off with. “The next time this happens, I swear, I'm forcing you to wear some padding at night. Even if I have to physically force you into nappies myself. I’ll do it. Don’t test me.” He accented his threat with a pointed finger. 

Geralt stared back, chewing on the side of his cheek as he searched the bard’s face for any sign of humour or insincerity. 

Jaskier dropped his pointing hand and started to sponge down the right side of his torso and legs. Once he was wiped off, he went to Geralt and stripped his night shirt off without asking. In a similar fashion, he wiped off the larger man. Once they were both cleaned, he tossed the rag onto the soiled bed and went to get dressed. “Let’s get breakfast.” 

The day went by with Geralt remaining quiet. He usually was fairly silent, but it was easier to be that way with Jaskier. The enthusiastic bard was all too willing to speak for the both of them in ordering food or just navigating the city. 

The day passed without event or wet pants. When night came, they went through their nightly routine and fell asleep. 

And once again, Geralt woke up at midnight on his own. As he went to get up out of bed, Jaskier’s words rang through his head. 

“I’ll put you in a diaper. Don’t test me.” 

Maybe he needed to test him… 

He stopped in his tracks and laid back down, opting to lie on his back. The room was dark and he could tell that Jaskier was asleep. There was no way that anyone could see what he was about to do, but he felt his cheeks flush a little bit. 

Without wondering why he wanted to test Jaskier, or push him to diaper him, he gave into his silly thought to wet the bed. Instead of going back to sleep and letting nature take its course, he forced a dribble of pee out. 

In the stillness of the inn room, he could feel everything a bit more acutely. It was an odd sensation given he usually didn’t feel his bladder or the feeling of releasing it. 

But in that witching hour, he swore he felt a burst of hot piss leave him, wetting the fabric of just his crotch. Anyone else might have clammed up at that, but his body was far too used to wetting his pants at that point. 

Hot wetness gushed out of him, soaking up to his navel before traveling down the tops of his thighs. Piss welled up over his legs, trickling down the sides of his hips in rivulets, then collecting under his bum. 

Thanks to his positioning, the puddle didn’t quite reach Jaskier, not as much as it did previously. 

Lying in a puddle of his own piss, Geralt felt naughtier than ever. Yes, he was semi-used to pissing himself. But this was intentional. There was no one to blame but himself. 

With a blush still staining his cheeks, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep again. 

The next morning, Jaskier woke and scowled at the puddle, much like the day before, “Dammit, Geralt.”

The two got cleaned up and changed, and--much to Geralt’s surprise--there was no talk of diapers. No talk of how he clearly needed them, at least for bed. 

Perhaps Jaskier had forgotten. 

That thought was assuaged as Jaskier pulled out a familiar square of linen after Geralt’s bath. He held it out for the man to take. 

Tentatively, he took the fabric. Geralt looked down at the soft padding in his hand, knowing he was probably blushing. He pretended to be more analytical than he was feeling as he assessed the plain white nappy. 

After a moment, he looked to Jaskier. He had crossed his arms with a cross look on his face to match. But he averted his gaze as gold eyes met blue.

After a second, Geralt cleared his throat and held out the diaper in turn, “I don’t know how to put one of these on.”   
“Yes you do, I’ve seen you with one on.”

“You said that I did it wrong.” A beat passed as he swallowed thickly, downing his pride with the saliva, “Will you help me?” 

A beat passed, but Jaskier nodded and grabbed the linen back. “Go lie down.” 

Geralt nodded in turn and obeyed. He laid on his back on the bed, still naked from his bath. Craning his neck, he watched as the bard fussed with the fabric, folding it just so. 

Once he had it the way he liked it, he got up on the bed himself, kneeling between his thighs, “Alright love, lift your hips.” 

He obliged, and the fabric was slipped under him. 

Despite already being familiar with his body, Jaskier was rather quiet as he did up the padding. “There. Is that too snug?” 

Geralt mumbled as he looked to the ceiling, “I don’t know.” 

A soft sigh escaped the bards lips, “I don’t think so.” He grabbed his leg under the knee and pushed it up, just to test mobility as well as see if there were any obvious places it would leak. 

Satisfied with the padding, Jaskier stepped back, “Don’t get up quite yet.” 

Going back to his bed, he grabbed something else and came back. “Lift your hips again.”

Geralt did, but he also craned his head to look, “What’s that?” 

“A pilch. You didn’t have one, so I made you one.” He spoke as he pinned the over layer in place. “There.” 

Jaskier finally sat back on his heels to look at his handiwork. He already knew he liked how the diaper cover came out. It fit well, even over the extra bulk of absorbent fabric. The oiled fabric was embroidered with soft colored thread. Just little patterns of swirling color. 

But, he already knew what it looked like, but not on Geralt. 

He took in the sight in front of him. Geralt had propped himself up on his elbows and was looking up at Jaskier, casting his eyes up demurely rather than lifting his whole head. The diaper fit snugly on him and added a fair amount of bulk between his legs, forcing his gait to be widened. 

And suddenly, Jaskier was the one blushing. He brought a hand up to cover his mouth, knowing he was grinning. There was no use in making Geralt think he was laughing at him and his padded butt. 

Geralt sat all the way up, crossing his legs under him. His thighs were still pushed apart with the bulk, so he shoved his hands in between his legs, palms flat on the mattress as if he could hide the diaper with his forearms. 

Maybe it was just that he’s been conditioned to think this man is cute, after all he’s been bathing him regularly for over a month. He chides him over small things, he feels protective and paternal. And now seeing him padded up, a look of vulnerability in his eyes, looking unsure and embarrassed is enough to capture Jaskier’s heart all over again. 

He wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head, “You’re adorable. And it’s unfair.”

Geralt made a half assed attempt to push him off. But Jaskier hung on too tightly. 

In the end, they cuddled, and fell asleep like normal. Geralt still wet the bed, and even with the diaper, he made a mess. 

Everything was pointed up when he was padded, and the linen did the best it could, but soon, piss spilled over the top of his diaper and soaked his tummy, along with the sheets of the bed. 

Jaskier sighed at the sight the next morning. “God, we’ve been in town for three days and we’re going to have to get the laundry done again.” 

Geralt started to strip himself without prompting, looking back down at the diaper and blushing. It was still cute, even if it didn’t do anything. “You did it wrong.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He stripped and washed himself. “I’ll just have to keep practising.” 

The man thought nothing of the sentiment as he undid the straight pins holding the cloth to his crotch and let the pilch and fabric fall to the floor. 

He got cleaned and went to dress, but Jaskier stopped him from putting on his small clothes with a hand to his arm. “Hold on.”

He let go of him to grab something from his pack. He pulled out another large square of linen. He folded it again into the right dimensions to pin around Geralt’s hips. 

The witcher cleared his throat, “I’m awake.” 

“I know, I need to be able to do it right next time, let me practise. You can take it off to piss if you want. That just gives me more practise putting it back on.” 

Geralt bit back a whine but let Jaskier pin the clean linen on him, this time with everything oriented properly. 

He smiled once he was properly padded again. “There we go.” He leaned up and kissed his forehead, “Now you can get dressed.”

**Author's Note:**

> i am noticing, most of these geralt fics end with a 'thank you' 
> 
> anyway, if you so please, check me out on tumblr: fightable-omo.tumblr.com  
> or on twitter: https://twitter.com/FightableO


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